Echoes
by Angel Ren
Summary: The only Christmas to pass in Forks was right in the middle of New Moon. What happened on December 25th? How did Charlie help Bella cope with the sheer agony surrounding Edward's disappearance? Angst oneshot. Critiques adored.


Summary: Christmas. New Moon style. Definitely not fluffy. Ren writes angst! Gasp! The fluffic writer didn't write… a fluffic! Beware. Bella was in her zombie-state when the only Christmas in the Twilight series rolled around. What happened? My little take on what went down in Forks on December 25th for Isabella Swan. Charlie tries to comfort Bella through the painful holiday. Oneshot.

As always, I'm curious about your input, especially when I explore something new. A new perspective, a new character, in this case, a new style. Critiques always welcome. (No worries, I'm still a fluffy writer. This hurt me to write it. ;.; )

Thank you BloodsuckingLeech! I couldn't do it without you, lovely beta!

_Echoes_

I rolled over in bed. The alarm read 12:01 A.M. Was it a new day already? I couldn't tell. Each day ran into the other. How many days had he been gone now? I couldn't remember. I couldn't bring myself to say his name. Of course he had left me. Why wouldn't he have? I was… …mortal.

The word caused an involuntary spasm of pain throughout my body. There had been a time not too long ago – at least I didn't think it had been very long ago – where the idea of no longer being mortal had been tangible. Of course he wouldn't buy it. He never had. Because he never wanted me. The words echoed inside my head over and over again like a wave crashing over the rocks. Echoes in a cavern, reverberating until only a ghost of the message remained. _I don't love you. I don't love you. No. Don't follow me. I don't love you._

I felt the pain swell through my body again, the hole threatening to rip me into shreds. I wanted to scream, cry, hit something, hurt myself, anything. Existence for the sake of existence was painful. For the most part, I was better at it than I had been. It was easier to pretend. Easier to pretend to be halfway functional. There was no escaping it: I was broken beyond repair. I don't think anything in the world could ever fix me again.

It wasn't fair. He promised. And here I was, rolling in agony. I looked to the clock again. 12:06 A.M. Was time really that slow? Did it really float past me at such a snail-like pace? At that rate, then it was just yesterday…

But what was today? What was tomorrow? Did it matter? I rolled back over and wrapped my arms around myself. I was thinking. I hadn't actually thought much before. I had just tried to exist. Now I was thinking, and it was proving dangerous ground. I wondered faintly if I should revert to just functioning. I needed to face facts. There were only echoes. Only shadows of what was, and what could've been. Nothing more.

But facts made me nauseous. But they were the only reality I had left. I had to realize, to understand that… …that… …Edward – the name made my stomach flip and my insides constrict – had left. He was gone, and not coming back. I suddenly felt very ill.

Perhaps if I went back to just existing, and just sleeping, it would go away. I pulled the covers over my head, tugging myself into an even tinier ball than before. Is this what he had meant by 'like he'd never existed'? He was about as insane as the idea of a vampire on crack.

"Uhg…" This feeling wasn't going away. I rolled out of bed, flipping the covers off of me. I stumbled across the floor and out the door. My foot slipped, predictably, and I slid the rest of the way down the stairs, landing in a painful heap at the bottom. My shins hurt and there was a striking pain in my left ankle. Pain was good. Physical pain detracted from emotional pain. But the feeling was still there. I couldn't stop this. I hurled myself to my feet, staggering the rest of the way to the bathroom.

"Bella?" Charlie was up. I figured my fall would wake him. He really didn't deserve what I was putting him through, and if I could stop it, I would. I didn't know how. Ignoring his concerned questions, I thrust open the door, collapsing in front of the porcelain bowl. Just in time.

The intensity of the agony caused my stomach to constrict in a painful way. There was nothing there, though. I hadn't eaten in… ...days? If I were being honest with myself, I couldn't remember the last time I ate. Either that mean that I hadn't recently, or it meant I did not recall eating – equally possible. Given the intense pain of my stomach as it tried to empty itself of nothing, I wagered it was the former. The muscles tightened and released, but there was nothing. Like the rest of me, my instincts flailed helplessly in the wake of destruction. It hurt; having nothing inside to release. Perhaps that was how I was emotionally. My body cried out to release emotion, but there was nothing left to release. When was the last time I cried? Last week. Screamed? Last night. Laughed? I couldn't remember. I didn't even know what day or month it was. Everything was a blur. One day bled into the next, the ticking of the clock mixing with the beating of my heart. Was it even beating? Or were those, too, echoes of what had been but were no more?

I felt a cold sweat break out across my skin as I gasped for air against my protesting stomach.

"Bella?" Charlie's voice was even more worried as he poked his head in the door. "Oh, Bella," he said softly. I'm not sure what he saw in me, but his expression was horrified briefly before he composed it. Had he always looked at me that way? Had I been so lost in myself I didn't notice? "I'll get you some water," he said and quickly left the bathroom. I just exhaled slowly, lying down to rest my head against the cold tile. The cold felt good. I liked cold. Cold was like marble – instantly the spasm of nausea twitched inside my stomach again. How long could I hold out like this? How long could I do this?

_Calculus. Derivatives. What's the derivative of the natural logarithm?_ Yes, yes that was good. Calculus wasn't painful. Not to me. The word 'painful' had been redefined as of late. Ever since – _Quick! What is it? One divided by x!_ I exhaled slowly.

Charlie returned to the bathroom bearing a glass of water. I sat up slowly, testing myself. So far, so good. Taking the glass, I put it to my lips, and took a weak sip. So far, so good. _Derivative of x squared?_ Another sip. The water was cold past my lips and it cooled my flaming stomach. _Two times x._ I smiled at Charlie weakly. I tried to show him I was okay. He just shook his head, not a trace of a return smile on his lips. He turned and left the bathroom. I sipped again.

My stomach seemed relatively stable now. It seemed to enjoy some form of substance, even if it were only water. Carefully, I pulled myself to my feet. Careful not to trip, and careful not to think. _The derivative of x cubed is three times x squared. _I stopped in front of the sink, staring down into it. I watched the water run. And run. And run. How I wanted to run. I wanted to fly away. Not from Forks, but from everything. I was jealous of the water.

I cupped my hands beneath the stream of cool liquid, let it pool, and then splashed it lightly on my face. I raised my face and dried it off with a towel. That's when I saw her.

The girl in the mirror. It wasn't me. She was a ghost of who I had been. A mere echo. She was far too pale, too gaunt, and too haggard. Her eyes were sunken; there was no light in their depths. Her lips were thin and pale, the bottom one trembling faintly. Her once healthy hair was tattered and tangled. Her physical deterioration wasn't nearly as striking as her emotional desecration. I knew then why Charlie was always so horrified when he looked at me.

I wasn't me anymore. When had that changed? Had it changed when he left? My stomach trembled. _The derivative of one divided by x._ Stupidly, I continued on. Had I always been this way? No. I'd been at least a little prettier. Had I changed when he… he left? Is this how… I was found? My head swam as more nausea rolled over me. Why was I so weak? He moved on. Why couldn't I? Why did I have to be the stupid one? _The negative of one over x squared._

Negative. He'd always said he was dangerous. Neither of us really knew quite how much. He certainly didn't. His idea of danger had been entirely physical. Neither of us knew he had been capable of this. And it wasn't even his fault. How could I blame him? I tossed back my head and laughed.

It was off. The laughter. It wasn't… my laugh. It was a cynical, pained laugh, a barky sort of laugh. Could I count it as a laugh? The next time I asked myself when I had laughed, could I say today? Charlie heard it, and it must have worried him because he came back to check on me. I glanced to him and his eyes widened slightly in horror. I checked myself in the mirror.

I was smiling. I don't know that it could be called a smile, but it was certainly manic. I shook my head and walked out of the bathroom, trying to clear my face.

I needed to get away. Driving? Where would I go? Anywhere. I was bottling, and I was losing myself. What was today? What was 'day'? A concept of time? I looked to the clock. 2:30 A.M. When had time decided to speed up? Hours ago, I was lying in bed wishing the minutes by. Now, two and a half hours had flown by in what seemed like minutes. What was time like to the immortal? Echoes? Whispers of a second hand on a clock? Perhaps I was more immortal now that I'd ever thought possible. Or perhaps I was more human. It was hard to tell. The only way to tell would be to feel. Feeling was dangerous. If I were human… I wasn't sure I could survive. The echoes were too strong. Too binding.

I drew my knees to my chest and looked out the darkened windows. Charlie was sitting in his chair, watching me apprehensively. Maybe he was afraid I would go berserk. Maybe he was scared I'd attack him. Or hurt myself. Maybe I would.

I tried to smile at him, but I failed. Miserably. Sighing, I buried my head against my knees. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know where else to go. What was next? Oblivion?

I felt the seat depress next to me. I didn't have to look up to know that Charlie had sat down beside me. Then he uncharacteristically put his arms around me. I raised my head to look up at him in complete surprise. His face was so full of concern it nearly undid me. Charlie was so worried about me. I needed something to hold onto. Maybe it would keep the pieces of me from flying apart.

I wrapped my arms around his midsection and clung. He stiffened, startled, but then I felt his hand patting my head awkwardly. Neither of us knew what to do. It was so out of character for both of us – almost uncomfortable, really – but I didn't want to let go. I needed the anchor right now. Charlie seemed content to offer this little bit of peace.

I don't know how long we sat there – perhaps I dozed off again – but when I glanced up, Charlie was nodding off to sleep. As carefully as possible, I unwound my arms from him and sat back. Doing so awakened him, however, despite my efforts. He mumbled something.

I noticed the sunlight streaming through the windows. I could see outside as the sun started to rise against the horizon. There was a blanket of glittering snow outside. When had that happened? It had snowed? What month was it? I turned to ask Charlie, and he was standing there holding a small, palm-sized box. It was wrapped in red wrapping paper, a gold bow on top.

"Merry Christmas, Bella," he said softly. It was Christmas? With trembling hands I lifted up the box and studied it like it was an insect. I shot him an inquiring look. Charlie only nodded.

"Yes, it's Christmas." He frowned, however, as I returned my gaze back to the box.

"Bella?" I looked to him again in response. He just shook his head, as if changing his mind.

I needed to get out. I needed to drive. I felt terrible that I hadn't gotten Charlie anything for Christmas, but I'd had no idea it was even December. What could I get Charlie? What would be a suitable gift for a father? I swallowed and wordlessly made my way to the door.

"Bella?" I looked at Charlie. "Where are you going?" I pointed to my truck in the driveway in response. "Why don't you talk anymore?" I winced. Because I said too much. I didn't have the heart to speak. I shook my head.

"I don't know," I said slowly. Charlie looked surprised that I had said anything at all. He smiled.

"Thank you," he said softly. "For telling me. Where are you headed?"

"I don't know," I replied again, honestly. Words were easier now. Charlie nodded, as if he understood my complex condition.

"Be safe, okay?" Charlie's eyes widened when I spasmed, clutching the sofa for support. "What did I say?!" I just shook my head.

"Nothing, don't worry about it," I muttered between painful gasps of breath. "I'll be back later." I stumbled out the door before my poor father could inadvertently say anything else.

I slipped across the ice, latching onto my truck. Opening the door, I climbed inside. It was then I realized I still had his present in my hands. I set it carefully on the seat and threw my truck into reverse. Backing out, I started down the road. On occasion, I would opt to make a turn at random. I had no idea where I was going. It was going to be a year soon. A year since it began. I had come in the winter. And it was winter again. A full year. A new beginning. Why did it feel like it was ending?

The sun was peeking over the crimson horizon, blaring through my window. I was heading South. Not for long. I took a right on the next road, and just drove. Westbound. I didn't know where I was going. I didn't know what I was doing.

More winding roads with snowbanks flew by. Eventually I slowed. I'd arrived at the ocean. I stopped the truck and turned it off. Kicking open the door, I dropped out. On a whim, I snatched up the little box from Charlie.

Carefully I picked my way through the snow down the deserted beach. It was cold, the wind was frigid. I paused by the icy waters as they swished back and forth. There was no one around for miles, no car on the highway. I was completely and totally alone. It was strangely comforting.

Beside me, a tree branch was resting against the ground. I dusted off the snow as best I could and sat down on the damp wood. The sun was rising behind me, casting its orange hue across the churning waters.

Curiosity got the best of me, and carefully I undid the wrapping paper. No paper cuts. Inside was a small white box. With trembling fingers, I lifted the lid up.

Inside, there was a piece of folded paper. I lifted it up. Beneath the paper was a beautiful necklace. Upon a sterling silver chain, a ruby-red heart was carved out of some stone. I stared down at the blood-colored rock.

Fingers trembling even more, I slowly opened the note.

_I miss my baby girl._

_-Dad_

I choked back the tears. Angrily, I raised my eyes to the dawn. Why was everything falling apart? It didn't have to. I could let it all out. Carefully, I lifted it out and looped it around my neck, attaching it. The heart dangled halfway between my breasts and collarbone. I smiled faintly, able to just catch sight of it.

So many emotions rushed over me. I couldn't control them. Pain, anger, sadness, adoration, love, pity, resolve, desolation. I did my best to try and name them as they flooded through me and that was the best I could do. There were others. Some I knew but wasn't fast enough to name, others ridiculously foreign. Completely undone by everything, I let it out. Loudly.

I screamed.

I threw my head back and screamed as loudly as I could. _He doesn't love you. He's not coming back. He never loved you. He got bored with you. It's over. He's gone. He's probably found someone else by now. Why can't you? It's over. Stop hoping. Give up. You don't deserve him. He never loved you._ The scream built louder and louder as the hole grew more, ripping parts of me apart. My arms were wrapped tightly around me, and in a gesture of self sacrifice, I unfurled them and spread them at my sides. If this hole were to rip open and destroy me, let it. I would not stop it now. I was sure then that I would never quite be whole again, no matter how this ended.

The echoes ravaged my mind and destroyed my heart. _You weren't interesting enough. He wanted more. More than you could give as a weak, pathetic human._ I was determined to hold the scream until the very end. I was going to let it all out right now. All the pain, all the frustration. Why didn't any one understand? Why did Lauren whisper behind my back? Why was I the only one bearing this burden? What did I _do_ to deserve this?

My lungs burned from the lack of air. Finally, I relinquished. The scream faded from my lips. Inhaling deeply, I held my breath, listening. _What? Did you think he'd come running?_ I don't know what I thought. But the only sound for miles were the echoes of my scream.


End file.
